


Down with the sickness

by Sobbingoverboys



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caring, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sobbingoverboys/pseuds/Sobbingoverboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire winced and looked at the gathering of friends at their door with a silent sorry before gesturing for them to leave with one hand as he ran the other through his messy hair. It was clear that he hadn't gotten much sleep but with the sound of coughing and sniffing coming from inside their apartment it was clear why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down with the sickness

“Don’t let Joly see me like this!” Enjolras shouted scratchily from the bedroom.

Grantaire winced and looked at the gathering of friends at their door with a silent sorry before gesturing for them to leave with one hand as he ran the other through his messy hair. It was clear that he hadn’t gotten much sleep but with the sound of coughing and sniffing coming from inside their apartment it was clear why. The others understood at least and bustled away with looks of nothing but concern, he hated to admit it but he too was not in the mood for much company.

They had been living together officially for 3 months now and their small home was the epicentre for all of the groups meetings. They would all crowd around in the living room on Sundays like this one to laugh, drink and discuss the latest problems with the government and the movements they were involved in. It always went the same way with everyone becoming more and more merry while Enjolras tries to keep the topics on track, eventually failing and either continuing on his own, scribbling notes and planning, or joining their drinking and games himself. As time went on living with Grantaire though he began to notice he did the latter more often. He really had begun to loosen up.

They had a two bedroom flat, not that anyone was under the illusion that the second room was used. Originally they wanted to keep things under wraps but there are only so many ways you can explain why you both came out of the same bedroom that one morning that Courfeyrac fell asleep on the sofa and you didn’t remember he was there after all. People also noticed the love bites and heavy petting when drunk, the paint that was always in Enjolras’ hair even though that was Grantaire’s passion alone, the looks across meetings, the tangled and skewed clothing when people arrived earlier than expected, even just the way they would sometimes end up wearing the others jeans. But there were things they kept to themselves still; love notes written on napkins and old receipts, songs that caused them to be reduced to purring and nuzzling fools on the sofa, the way they would sit and eat breakfast together (rarely from their own plate) -all these things which they kept for themselves.

But right now Grantaire had no music, no notes; instead he found himself perched back on the end of their bed, his hand resting softly on his lover’s knee as he curled into the pillow and allowed the tears to stream from his tired eyes. His usually bright Apollo was now pink with rubbing of his eyes and nose, damp with sweat and tears and limp with sickness. Grantaire had never seen him sick before and this was quite the shock. He could barely stand it. Enjolras went through bouts of crying softly from feeling so weak, sleeping with no real success and fidgeting, frustrated and unable to fix himself.

But he stayed awake the whole time.

He couldn’t sleep with his Apollo so sick, he found the idea impossible. Before they had been together he was used to staying awake for long periods of time either working or drinking but now he needed to be alert. Other than the quick nap when Enjolras insisted they cuddle he had been using his every will to watch over him, unable to let him fight alone, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep through something so important.

And so he sat, caressing him through the sheets softly until his heavy sighs became softer hums and his eyelids softly shuddered at his cheeks with the beginnings of dreams. Once he was snoring softly as he apparently did when sick (He was usually rather a silent sleeper Grantaire had found but now he made quite the little fuss) Grantaire found himself free to roam the apartment, collecting occasional tissues into the bin and perching himself on the kitchen counter while the kettle boiled. Pulling out his mobile he sent a quick text to Combeferre who had insisted on being filled in.

-The prince is snoring finally  
-Charming, you must be tired too?  
-I’ll be fine  
-I’ll pretend not to know you’re lying  
-I’ll appreciate that  
-You need me to bring more supplies?  
-Tissues are fine, soup would be nice  
-I’ll be over in a bit  
-Let yourself in :)

At that Grantaire quickly poured himself a black coffee and returned to his lover, kissing him softly on the ear as he settled back into his place watching him.

 

~~

 

Combeferre let himself into the apartment quietly as not to attract too much unwarranted attention and peered around at the living room he stepped gingerly into.

Fucking hell boys

The sofa was piled with blankets, there were tissues scattered on most of the floor and surfaces, wet flannels filled the kitchen sink, bowls of leftover soup crowded the kitchen counter and the whole place smelled like cough syrup.

Shaking his head he dropped the cans of soup he brought onto the coffee table and began cleaning for them, if Enjolras saw his apartment like this he’d go into shock.

Once the washing machine was humming in the background and all of the bowls were neatly stacked in the cupboard he began work with the tissues. The only consolation was that after living with Enjolras he was used to dealing with the man through sickness so this task was not as disgusting as most saw it. Tossing the last visible tissue into the bin he decided to fold the blankets on the sofa, grabbing one of the many corners before being distracted by a bump coming from the bedroom.

Carefully he walked, not making too much noise in case he woke Enjolras, up to the door to hear what was going on. He stood for a moment silently but all he could hear was Enjolras snoring so he decided, with a smile creeping onto his face, that it was safe to open the door.

The scene was, though he hated to admit it, quite achingly sweet. Enjolras was curled completely into a ball against Grantaire who was wound protectively around him, his nose in the paler man’s hair. As Enjolras moved slightly with a cough, his knees pushing into Grantaire’s chest where they were pinned between them, Grantaire jutted backwards slightly into the bedside drawers causing the bump that had drawn Combeferre’s attention before. Still the man didn’t stir; he just held Enjolras closer still and let out a sigh. How long had he been lying like this? He would surely bruise at this rate. Deciding it was best to leave the men to sleep Combeferre let himself out of the apartment as quietly as he had entered, snapping only one picture of the two before he left, grinning and ready for what he considered a well-deserved coffee with the rest of the group.

 

~~

 

Grantaire woke up rather apparently too soon for his body to deal with straight away; he found himself struggling with consciousness in a way that was all too familiar in his earlier life. Groaning slightly he finally managed to open his eyes, forcing himself not to let them close too heavily, and rub away sleep with one rather numb hand.

Enjolras was covered in a fine film of sweat which, although it made him look as soft and human as the hue he took on after they made love, Grantaire decided was to be dealt with. He had always been told time and time again by Joly that a clean outside would assist in a clean inside and now, as he looked at the many pamphlets he had given them time and time again piled on their bookshelf messily, he decided the best thing to do would be to run them both a bath. Slowly he slipped his arm from under Enjolras’ head and slid off the bed sideways feet first in an attempt to not let the mattress bounce too violently and startle him. Once he was finally sat in a bundle on the floor he spent a moment just checking Enjolras was still soundly sleeping before he could bring himself to stand. He could barely believe how important the man had become to him. Just the sight of him made his chest ache even after all the time they’d spent in each other’s arms; it was as if he would never shake the butterflies.

He thought bubbles would be pointless for this kind of bath and cleared the bottles and pastes from around the sides of the bath; he wanted it to be as clear as possible so that Enjolras wouldn’t knock anything in his daze. Once the water had filled 2/3 of the tub and the temperature was how Enjolras most liked it, hot but not steaming, he stopped the water and removed his clothes in order to save time once he had Enjolras here; he didn’t want to have to let him go for a single second to get undressed. 

Enjolras was heavy in his arms and could only cling to Grantaire’s neck weakly. It was obvious he was still drained but at least he was beginning to wake up a little as Grantaire sat him on his lap and began to remove his tshirt.

“R…” he moaned slightly in protest, his voice hoarse. Frowning slightly at how he sounded he looked up at Grantaire with red eyes before softly planting a kiss on his neck and allowing him to continue. Grantaire could barely stop his face from dropping at his usually bold love’s broken attempt at pride and so decided to undress him more quickly, taking down his flannel pyjama bottoms and boxers at the same time and throwing them to the other side of the room. Lifting him again carefully he slowly took the few steps their bathroom allowed to the edge of the tub and began to lower him into the water. As he sank in Enjolras let out a long sigh and his muscles relaxed at once, taking his frown with them and replacing it with a face that seemed to Grantaire to be the definition of softness as his head drooped backwards to rest on the cold porcelain behind him. Once he was rested securely in the water Grantaire lifted him forwards slightly to slip in behind him, allowing the man to lean against his chest as he sank into the warmth of the water. For a while they just stayed there, skin to skin with the room silent apart from the dripping of the tap at the other end of the bath pushing ripples their way. Grantaire kissed Enjolras’ hair and whispered soothing things into his ear about the things they can do when he feels better.

Conscious of the ever cooling water Grantaire began washing Enjolras gently. Reaching around him he began to rub soap on his chest and thighs, using a jug by the side of the bath to wash away the suds, pouring the water through his curls and down his back as he rubbed his shoulders and neck, his long fingers massaging slightly and working their way down his arms, raising them and turning them as he worked towards his love’s hands, their fingers interlocking. Once he had finished with the soap he smiled as he encapsulated each strand of golden hair with rose scented shampoo, rubbing it into his scalp and dragging his fingers right to the tips of his usually wild mane as Enjolras let out soft sighs; pouring the water through his hair once more left Grantaire’s task complete and the lightest soapy foam swirling around their exposed skin, the scent filling the room.

Pushing himself out of the water Grantaire stood and tugged the large white towel he had draped over the radiator, its warmth contrasting painfully with the cold air nipping at his soft flesh, holding it out for Enjolras to step into. As he slowly found his feet in the tub Grantaire was quick to wrap his trembling form in the towel and once again lift him into his arms. Cradling him much like a child he walked him slowly through to the living room where he sat his on his lap in the single armchair they owned. Although Grantaire was still nude and cold he quickly set about focusing on getting Enjolras dry and was soon enough rubbing him with the towel while he giggled weakly and squirmed in his lap for him to stop letting out soft cries of “I’m dry” and “That tickles, idiot”.

Grantaire couldn’t help but grin like a fool as Enjolras grabbed his hands to stop the apparent torture and tried to look stern through his smile, failing and deciding to simply stand up and throw the towel onto the floor.

And so his angel stood in front of him, soft and clean, damp curls at his cheeks, tired eyes fixed on him above a soft smile, each muscle and angle fresh and all Grantaire could do was relax against the plush cushion of the chair and look at him. Even in sickness he was beautiful. Even tired and drained he managed to smile with the utmost radiance. Tapping his leg lightly Grantaire pleaded with his eyes for Enjolras to rest and was relieved when, rather than arguing, he sat down and curled up between his boyfriend’s knees, pulling the right one upwards to rest his head on, with little regard to their lack of clothing. Unfortunately Grantaire was a lot more aware of these things and found he was struggling to keep his eyes to himself, deciding the best thing to do would be to braid Enjolras’ hair since he refused to let him dry it. Slowly he unknotted the tangles and began weaving, barely noticing when Enjolras fell asleep until he once again heard his soft snores from where Enjolras’ head rested on his knee. Once again smiling he lifted Enjolras and took him straight back to bed. There was no use in him getting cold here.

 

It had been a whole week and Enjolras was getting better by the minute it seemed which meant Grantaire was able to do more than microwave soup. In a form of celebration he decided that while Enjolras was asleep he would make them both breakfast and so he stood there in the kitchen wearing the floral apron Jehan brought him as a joke for Christmas over his boxers while he made them bacon, eggs and toast. He knew it wasn’t a full English breakfast like the ones that Bossuet made but it was a start and he was sure Enjolras would appreciate it all the same.

It was because he was stood there, humming to himself and flipping bacon, that he didn’t notice that his lover had woken up. He didn’t even notice when he stood grinning in the doorway at the sight of his boyfriend wiggling his cute little butt at the stove, which was probably for the best. What he did notice was the warmth at his back and the frame that was pressing into him deliciously.

“G-good morning” He managed to stutter, shocked at the sudden pressure being applied to his ass and the hands which snaked around to clutch his waist.

“Good morning indeed” Enjolras groaned into his ear, his breath hot and his words hushed.

Grantaire had just enough rational thought left through the daze his boyfriend was putting him in to turn off the gas before he was turned around.

Enjolras wasted no time in planting fluttering and then more desperate kisses on his lips and neck, delicately untying the apron as he did so and leaving Grantaire gasping. As the apron was quickly removed Grantaire found himself pushing Enjolras backwards and lifting him onto the table where he could wrap his legs around Grantaire’s waist, not once stopping with the kisses which were becoming licks and bites. Grantaire had been craving him for days now and so quickly took over, pushing Enjolras down onto the table and pinning his wrists above him, kissing his way down his chest as the man moaned and rolled his hips upwards.

The gasps and sighs Grantaire could draw from him just by tugging lightly on one hardened nipple with his teeth were, to his mind, gorgeous and soon made him hungry for more. With one hand still holding Enjolras’ slender wrists in place the other was put to work tearing off his boxers and throwing them away, revealing his already hard cock which he now thrust forwards with a whine in the hopes of finding friction. Partly giving into his hushed pleas Grantaire took his length into his hands and began stroking firmly but still teasingly slowly. Not satisfied with the pace Enjolras resorted to begging.

“Please... R I need… Oh fuck just please”

“Please what?” Grantaire mocked as he watched his angel reduced to thrusting and begging before he’d even really begun.

“I need to cum” Enjolras moaned shamelessly, knowing that this kind of display would win him anything from Grantaire.

At this Grantaire felt himself ready to burst with arousal and couldn’t wait another second to get to his knees to take Enjolras into his mouth, only just controlling himself enough to at least use his tongue a little before he fully gave in, running it from where the golden curls framed his base up to where the beads of precum had appeared. He then gave in though and took the head into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks slightly and sucking until he had to hold Enjolras’ hips down to stop him from thrusting into him. Enjolras moaned and clawed at Grantaire’s shoulders, leaving them scratched and red before curling his fingers into his hair and tugging slightly, urging him to give more and succeeding in drawing a sharp gasp. Grantaire took more and more of him into his mouth, moaning as Enjolras filled him to his throat, until his nose was just millimetres from his stomach.

One thing Enjolras was glad of was that Grantaire could do this with little trouble and so he didn’t have to feel guilt when he instinctively rolled his hips as the man sent the vibrations of his own moans straight down his length. 

Grantaire slid back up to just the head and sucked again more strongly, looking into Enjolras’ widened eyes, before circling his tongue and refocusing on taking him in building a more even pace.

He could feel the tension building in his lover’s muscles, the trembling of his thighs, the moans becoming louder, less coherent versions of his name. He pushed more, gained speed, sucked harder and hummed around Enjolras’ cock until he was writhing on their kitchen table. In one last thrust Enjolras released into the back of Grantaire’s throat, relaxing into his orgasm as every last bit drop of his spend was swallowed down.

Grantaire lifted himself to where his angel was and placed soft kisses along his jaw, moaning into Enjolras’ mouth as he ran his tongue lazily along Grantaire’s, tasting himself on him and not caring one bit. Grantaire was still painfully hard under his boxers and he blushed slightly at the wetness when he stood up but before he could move Enjolras’ hand was there, rubbing him through his underwear. Grantaire couldn’t hold back a whimper as he looked down at him still lying on the table but now looking up at him with a devilish smirk as he pressed a finger to Grantaire’s tip, circling slightly.

In a quick moment Enjolras had sat up and was leaving love bites on his neck as he palmed him, whispering while he nipped as if trying to penetrate his skin with dirty thoughts and bad intentions and Grantaire could feel him grin at every moan and shiver.

“Shit…”

Grantaire was unravelling in Enjolras’ hands quickly and he had to cling to him just to feel grounded. His hands in his hair, on his shoulders and finally, as orgasm clouded his mind and clutched his every pore, cradling his face.

The next few minutes were a blur of giggles while they mopped up each other’s mess and before he even really knew what was going on they were curled on the sofa together, skin on skin and breakfast forgotten.

It was as they were breathing in each other’s company and whispering warm words of love and the future that Grantaire felt the familiar looseness in his newly healthy boyfriend’s limbs on top of him. He decided the best course of action would be to just follow his lead and fall asleep, glad that the whole ordeal was over and they could return to normal. That was, until he woke up later with a somewhat sore throat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jemmybean for looking over this for me
> 
> Constructive criticism welcome~


End file.
